


Sharing John Watson

by CaptainLevi



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, I don't know, I'm Sorry, I'm Weird, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Sherlock, Really Just Porn, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M, Top John Watson, Voyeurism, bottomlock, just very gay stuff, kinda threesom, kinda weird porn, maybe not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 16:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12039816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainLevi/pseuds/CaptainLevi
Summary: Greg has his eyes set on one of Sherlock's things. Sherlock doesn't like to share.





	Sharing John Watson

"Stop it" Sherlock suddenly said, startling Greg out of his thoughts.

"What? What is it now? Am I thinking too loudly for your highness?" Greg answered, unable to hide what had slowly grown into resentment against the handsome, genius, bloody perfect Mr. Sherlock Holmes, with his shiny curls and his gorgeous alien eyes. God! Greg had to get a grip and stop acting like a bloody teenager

"You're oggling him again" Sherlock complained.

"I am not!" Greg whispered in a bit of a panic. He looked at John, still kneeling by the body and assessing its state. He clearly hadn't heard anything. Greg sighed in relief.

"You have to get over this ridiculous crush you've got on him, he is mine Greg, and I don't like sharing.”

“I know.” Greg said, unable to keep himself from continuing to stare at the graceful curves of John’s body “But I can’t get over it. I want him, and I need to get it out of my system.”

Greg had to let it out and confess to what had been driving him insane for the past couple of months. He wanted John Watson at any cost. Just one night, one chance to have that body. It wasn’t that he had feelings for him or anything, it was just good old undeniable, desperate ofrce of lust for a particular army doctor.

He wanted him in his bed, under him or above him, to worship and devour his body, not necessarily in that order. The only thing standing between him and that was bloody Sherlock Holmes, who happened to be obsessively in love with the man, who, of course, reciprocated.

Sherlock simply rolled his eyes at him, ignoring the confession completely, and went on to deliver deductions to a love-sick mesmerized John, who looked like he was about to snog him right there.

“I might have an idea” Sherlock whispered to Greg with a strange smile before he followed John out of the crime scene.

“What sort of idea?” Greg heard himself calling after him.

“Something you might like. Come by Baker Street at 8, I’ll text you the details.” he said and turned around to catch up with a clueless John

\-----

Greg could not stop thinking about what Sherlock said all day. What the hell did he mean? Was this just a ploy to get him to back off and stay away from John? His heart leapt as his phone chime with a text.

“You can have some of him, but on my own terms. SH”

“What terms?”

“You cannot and will not do anything unless I tell you. You’re allowed to watch until I tell you otherwise, and then I’ll decide what you’ll have of him. SH”

“Watch what? Is this another one of your bloody experiments?”

“As a matter of fact, it is. SH”

Greg stared at the phone screen, unable to think of anything to say back to that until another text arrived.

“John is on board. Be there at 8. SH”

And so it was. At 8 pm sharp, Greg Lestrade was standing outside 221B exactly. He had no idea what had been waiting for him, but he was shivering with excitement at the possibilities.

Many years working with Sherlock and rushing to his place for all sorts of crime inquiries made it instinctive for Greg to barge into the flat without preamble, so he just walked in. the flat was semi-dark and dead silent. Neither Sherlock nor John were in sight. Greg stood by the fireplace wondering if Sherlock had been playing him for fool, but then his heart jumped as he heard a very distinctive noise… moans.

They were coming from Sherlock's bedroom. Greg's legs did not request permission to start walking, and with a few strides, he was standing by the door and turning the knob, feeling like he was in for a treat.

He was. Greg stood frozen, staring at John and Sherlock locked in an embrace on the bed. John was on top of Sherlock's body, moving minutely as he kissed him. They were kissing so warmly, so lovingly, and yet it was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

"Oh, you're here" Sherlock said with a breathy voice as he let go of John's mouth, and John just looked at Greg, his eyes dark with lust.

"Sorry, we kind of started without you" Sherlock smiled cunningly and gestured at a chair opposite the bed.

"You can sit and watch as we agreed until I tell you otherwise." Sherlock said and didn't wait for an answer, but resumed snogging John with a deep sigh.

Greg walked quietly, sat in the chair and watched transfixed as John kissed and bit at Sherlock's exposed neck, his mouth moving in sensual sweeps across the pale skin.

John's left hand combed through the dark curls reverently, while his right hand cradled his nape gently. Sherlock's breathing was going quicker as John sucked on the skin right above his collarbone, and he started tugging his shirt buttons loose impatiently.

With every button set free, new territories were revealing themselves for John's mouth to explore, and when the shirt was completely open, he slid it slowly off Sherlock's shoulders, and left it hanging loosely on his thin arms. He wrapped two strong arms around Sherlock's waist and buried his nose in his armpits inhaling deeply and groaning with each exhale. His mouth glided, leaving open mouthed kissed on Sherlock's flat chest until it wrapped itself around Sherlock's right nipple, suckling gently and still holding the warm body in place as Sherlock squirmed beneath him.

Greg felt his body burning with need as he watched John's clever lips worship and tantalize Sherlock's body. His hand moved slowly to palm his raging erection and he tried not to moan at the contact.

John let go of the soft pink nipple with a 'pop' sound and move to the other one, which he sucked on with the same look of concentration, as if he was doing the most important thing in his life.

"John" Sherlock moaned loudly as he pushed John's head off his chest and tried to lead him downwards, where the outline of his cock was painted in the expensive fabric of his trousers.

John lifted his head to look at him, and Sherlock cupped a hand around his cheek, staring desperately at his face with heavy lidded eyes.

John didn't say anything, he just smiled and started working on Sherlock's button and zipper with one hand, and with the other he took Sherlock’s own hand and started mouthing at his long fingers.

Soon, Sherlock’s trousers were hanging open on his narrow hips. John pushed them open and tugged a bit at the black designer pants so that Sherlock's flushed cock sprang free.

John’s tongue licked at the tip of the pink erection, and his fingers hooked themselves around the edges of his trousers on either side to strip him completely naked.

“John, oh, John!” Sherlock babbled incoherently lifting his hips, partly to get more of his cock into John’s mouth and partly to allow his trousers to slide down and away. John was clearly desperate for any friction, so he moved back a bit and started pulling up his jumper.

Greg stared in agony as golden skin glittered with sweat, he hungrily watched the muscular shoulders moving gracefully, the blonde sparse hair on John's chest barely visible on equally golden complexion, he waited desperately until John finally… finally pushed down his trousers and pants.

Greg swallowed audibly at the sight that confirmed all his suspicions and fantasies, John’s cock was mouth-wateringly huge, hanging heavily between his thick but fit thighs. He was uncircumcised, foreskin pulled back a bit revealing the flushed tip which was glistening with precum. Greg’s hand moved faster, now fisting at his cock and feeling drops of precum wetting his pants.

He then took notice of Sherlock, who had his flushed face turned to him. he gave him an intense strange look bearing so many meaning: gloating, possessiveness, condescension... but also, arousal… so much arousal at being watched, it startled Greg for a moment, and then Sherlock was not looking at him anymore, but rather at the gloriously naked man looming over his body.

“Fuck me hard” Sherlock rasped, and John grabbed a bottle of lube from the bedside table. He started preparing Sherlock slowly and gently, first rubbing at his hole as he kissed his neck and chest, then slipping one finger after the other inside, stretching and loosening the muscles, and angling his hand in a way that made Sherlock gasp and thrust up into the air.

“I’m ready, John, fuck me, now.” Sherlock demanded, and John did not argue, but simply gave him another adoring smile. "Whatever my sweetheart asks" He said as he pushed Sherlock's hair back with affection.

He lined his cock up with the slippery soft ring, and started a maddeningly slow penetration, cursing under his breath as he slid his glorious cock inside Sherlock’s body.

The heavenly smell of sex wafted and filled the room and Greg's nostrils. Unable to take it any longer, he undid his trousers and pushed his hand down his pants to stroke his hard-rock cock, but he did it slowly, teasing himself with an erratic pace to relish every moment of it.

Once he was fully inside, John started moving his massive cock in and out of the tight hole. Greg was in full view of the point where they were joint, watching open-mouthed as John's dick moved smoothly, sometimes in shallow thrusts that were clearly aimed to pound into Sherlock's prostate. It was obviously effective, as Sherlock grabbed John's arse cheeks and started pulling him harder, with desperate ah's and oh's.

"Harder" He commanded, and John complied. He started pounding so hard into Sherlock, the thin pale body was being pushed slightly up the bed with every thrust. He was obscenely loud, moaning, and calling John’s name in unabashed pleasure

John reached a hand between them to grab his cock, but Sherlock batted it away.

“No, not now” he said through heavy breaths and gasps “come inside me, I want to feel you.”

“God, Sherlock!” John panted as he thrusted harder still “You’re so beautiful!”

Sherlock pulled him down for a kiss, and John’s groan was muffled in his mouth as he pushed deep inside one last time and came

his broad shoulders twitched a couple of times with the aftershocks, then he regained himself slowly, and started kissing Sherlock’s eyes and cheeks and neck softly just as he slipped free out of him

“What do you want, baby?” he asked the man beneath him between kisses.

Rather than saying anything, Sherlock turned his head to Greg, who was in quite the state, staring between John's spent cock and Sherlock's still erect one. His breathing was heavy and erratic, and his eyes were roaming John’s body with hunger. He had his hand shoved inside his pants, wanking furiously, and he licked his lips repeatedly while doing so

Sherlock pushed John off of himself and gestured to the place where John’s cock had just been buried. John’s creamy ejaculate was slowly slipping from the reddened hole in a maddeningly delicious view.

“You can have this” Sherlock said with a smirk.

Greg’s eyes went wide and he swallowed as he understood. He didn’t argue, but got up from his chair, feeling beads of sweat running across his forehead. He stopped by the foot of the bed staring at Sherlock, who had his legs open and his hand moving, stroking feather-light on his cock.

Greg lost all control and in a second, was on his knees. He grabbed Sherlock’s thighs and dragged him down to the edge of the bed until he had the exposed groin close and at the same level as his mouth. Then he wasted no time, and buried his face in the warm dusky skin between his arse cheeks.

He began with small licks, afraid that this would be over too soon, and caught with the tip of his tongue the thin stream of cum that was running from Sherlock’s pink ring of muscles.

John’s cum tasted like heaven, and Greg heard himself moan loudly as he licked wider strips of skin, lapping greedily to get every drop.

Too soon though, Sherlock was wiped clean, but Greg hadn’t had his fill, so he pushed the soft thighs further apart, stretched his tongue as far as he could, and pushed it inside the loosened wet entrance to get whatever was still in there.

Sherlock started moaning again and stroked himself a bit harder. Greg felt John move on the bed near them, and he heard the unmistakable slurping sounds of kissing.

He then felt John slide sown his mouth Sherlock’s body, getting dangerously close. Greg almost lost his concentration when John’s head was right above his, his mouth inches from Greg’s, as he started sucking Sherlock’s cock. Greg's hand went back into his pants and resumed jerking his cock.

Sherlock thrashed on the bed, shaking as he moved between the tongue that was fucking him, and the mouth that was jerking him off.

Greg latched on with his lips, sucking the pink ring as his tongue probed deeper chasing after whatever was left of John’s essence, and hoping against hope their mouths would meet somehow on Sherlock’s body.

Sherlock’s hips pushed up one last time, and he came in John’s mouth with a scream. Greg didn’t let go, and neither did John, they persisted, until Sherlock's body started twitching in discomfort, cock completely milked by John's warm mouth.

Greg started slowing down, taking down his pace to lick and kiss rather than fuck and suck. Just as he licked at Sherlock’s perineum, he felt John’s tongue brushing his mouth. Unable to restrain himself, he pushed forward and sucked on the warm pink tongue for a moment, at which he felt himself shake with pleasure and come violently in his pants. It felt so good it almost hurt.

Greg was the first to regain his wits and tucked himself in hastily. He wanted to leave before it began to feel awkward and they had to 'talk about it' or something. But right as he crossed the bedroom door, he heard Sherlock's voice calling him. He turned around. John was lying in Sherlock's arms, his breath slow and deep and his eyes shut, clearly dozing.

"I might let you have more of him next time. If you continue to behave" Sherlock said with a smirk and closed his eyes as he buried his nose in the blonde hair.

Greg tried not to feel thrilled about the prospect of 'next time' but failed. He turned around and left the flat, heart still pounding.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this just sort of happened  
> I wrote this over morning coffee because I'm a weird person. It is not betaed or reread or anything...  
> Awkward silence and retreat to hide under my sheets and feel ashamed...


End file.
